


can't run forever

by aeinlookalike



Category: Fe - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-10 01:39:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12901224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeinlookalike/pseuds/aeinlookalike
Summary: in which there is nothing realistic in askr after allnot after knowing where you originate from surfaces again for the inevitable





	1. everything i've seen twice

**Author's Note:**

> steel to my trembling lips,  
> how did the night ever get like this?  
> one shot and the whiskey goes down, down, down.  
> bottom of the bottle hits,  
> waking up my mind as I throw a fit.

He jolts awake over the table he's been dozing off at. Empty bottles are strewn everywhere, his hair still an untamed mass, but more so than before. He tries to scramble out of his seat only to knock over in his dazed haste, papers written with ink that only repeats in kanji "death is coming" inelegantly, crossed out, repeated several times over and "fear". His trembling starts at the papers he doesn't even remember writing that's plain as day in his own handwriting and he's so tired. He's tired of everything and just wants to sleep without waking up or thinking about anything. His shoulders are stiff, his muscles scream agony, but at least that pain is physically here, it's not an actual thought and it's not as if it can't be mended. 

Life isn't merciful though so he's left here to suffer of what's been said and done. He half-hazardly almost trips over an empty bottle that's rolling on the disaster of a floor and room that's messy and shows the person living in it doesn't care about it's condition enough to clean it nor even attempt to. There's so many bottles and he can't stop thinking past the blur of alcohol that's ruining his vision and his mind somewhat, but even through it all, that specific thought never leaves. It's just that one thought he wants to forget out of everything and he isn't even granted that much. Even despite the endless pain and restless nights and bottles he goes through, he wants to forget, he wants to forget.

But there is nothing that can fix him.

He clutches his head and something threatens to tear at him and he wishes it would, whatever it is, just make these thoughts go away. The bottles roll on the floor and papers still continue to scatter in his path to make it stop.

He doesn't want to die.

There is no honor in admitting that, he is no true samurai, there is such rigid fear in him everywhere and it haunts everything he does. He doesn't want to be left behind, there's not a single meaningful way to go, and he is not at peace with this inevitable truth that is coming, regardless of whether he accepts it or not.

Somewhere along the way, he finally slips and the ground rises up to meet him and it's almost a bliss because at least it's something to focus on. The current pain is nothing compared to what's happening in his mind, but he's still glad for the distraction. Another day is coming and he must face it one way or the other, but for now, he tries to curl up into a dreamless sleep that consists of nothing. In his hopes, lies his dead aspirations and dreams he would never finish like anyone else. Time is not kind, it waits for no one and he knows everything is inevitable in the end. What's claimed or not would all come to pass.

He remembers his lover though and it's something that has him keep his happiness, but also his sorrow at the same time. There's so much here if he were to one day be gone, the path on what could've been had fate been kinder to him. It almost seems like a mistake, a cruel twist of fate to show him all this and tell him he could've had everything, but will one day be left with nothing. There's bitterness and although it's not a feeling he likes, he's used to it and holds on, mostly because it's a distraction from everything else. His thoughts and mind swims, breaths shaky, eyes blank with grief; and through it all he knows he must hold on. For his lover and siblings' sake, at least here in this world.

It's quiet, he knows it still must be early. Light doesn't filter through the windows yet and he wishes he could sleep more, but knows he can't. So he does something he hasn't done before, but is in a desperate enough state to do so. He heads out the door in his disheveled appearance to somewhere familiar he knows, a place he's been to many times before. The sword is left behind, whether by his haste to leave or perhaps there wasn't enough in him to care. His one comfort in the room, but also the knowledge of what was coming with it is too dark to bear right now.

He knows he won't be spotted and even if he was, he's not in the right mind to care. Something graces his heavy footsteps though and he arrives without too much trouble. The door isn't locked, but he still stands outside hesitant. He had made it this far and was now having second thoughts. He's about to turn around and leave, knows this is a mistake until he hears the sounds of noise inside. It gives him the courage to gently knock in his familiar pattern the person inside will recognize and he opens the door.

"Ryoma?" Surprise is written on the other's face as he turns to question who else could possibly come in at this hour, but all other words stop upon seeing him. Maybe it's Ryoma's condition, his eyes that he knows are empty, the stuttering steps that take him forward as the other prince practically sprints out of his chair, almost knocking it over in the process to meet him from his table. There is the smallest of serenities to be met together in each other's arms, even if one is almost too desperate and the other in shock. It's not anything Ryoma would wish on anyone, but knows the other can handle it, as ugly as it is.

There's no words, just comfort in each other, Xander doesn't even bother to ask what's wrong, they've always been like that, the high prince supposed, it's not something he ever took for granted, but for now it's a blessing of it's own. He doesn't speak and the crown prince just keeps him here, grounded, even when there seems to be nothing left except to drift away. Ryoma is finally pulled apart from the other man who stares at him with nothing but concern. 

Nothing is ever said that night though, even as Xander gently pushes him to his clean bed that's near the candle-lit table filled with paperwork and disorganized quill pens with ink. If Ryoma was in a better state, he'd ask why Xander is up as well, but he's tired and his heart is sick. There will be a reckoning for the both of them tomorrow, but for now this is enough. There is no protest as the crown prince quietly blows his candles out and an empty darkness settles upon the room. Oddly enough, it isn't as suffocating in his room though so Ryoma's content. He tries for sleep, but the eyes that close are only for show. As if realizing that somehow, the crown prince's hands make their way to his own, leaning into him as he climbs in too. 

"Sleep," Xander says. "I will be here."

Ryoma knows that's not a lie, not in the way Xander means it to be, but it can be. Still, the other prince's words are meant for comfort and he realizes this, so Ryoma takes whatever he can. He's not one to be picky anyway.

The sleep that comes isn't clean, but it's enough to bear for the new day that will carry it's own responsibilities.


	2. to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a letter of bygone days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with shortness of breath, you explained the infinite;

"To you," he writes in the dark with only a single candle to guide him as he writes the hardest letter of his life.

"The one who loved me despite the faults I have and through everything we've seen and done. We'll never again have what we've had here and for that I am grateful, because it is not a one time experience that anyone can just understand.

I cannot say if everything I've said was fair to you. There must be times where you look at me and see someone else. I can't apologize enough, but I wonder if you know I feel the same?

However, I see you and I know that despite it all, we have persevered.

Lately though, I worry. I see you and you turn away from me. There is guilt and grief in your eyes that you can't hide and as if you know this, you don't look at me at all. You're a fool if you think you can shoulder the burdens of whatever it is you have alone. It's why we're here. Why I'M here. It's why we depend on each other. Whatever it is you carry, I wish to carry it with you. I can't bear to see you look so broken and tired. You try your best to hide it, but you can't. Not from me.

Truly, I don't know what to do anymore. You seem so lost in more ways than one. I'm not at all a veteran in the ways of love. Battle is a thing that comes more naturally to me, as barbaric as that sounds. If that is the difference between you and I, then I will accept it for what it is if I can just help you.

I can't presume what you're thinking of right now, but you're always in my own thoughts. What I do know for certain, is that we're here now. I love you in more ways than one. We'll always-"

A knock at the door, it's in a familiar pattern, but it shouldn't be, not at this hour. It's him though and the ink he's been writing with spills over the dear letter in his haste to reach his lover, standing at the door, who looks like his own world is shattered. It's black ink erases over the words he's written with his heart, not that he minds particularly when he finds out about it later and it's fine. He's not sure if he could ever send it anyway.

"This is to you."


	3. but i don't mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i feel fine,  
> but i know the same does not apply to you.  
> i know the same does not apply to you,  
> so i guess that i'll curl up and die too.

He's angry.

It's understandable, especially because Ryoma still won't tell him what's wrong with himself. He only counters with why Xander's awake as well, as he certainly didn't give off the atmosphere of having only one night insomnia. The defensiveness the high prince shows is enough to agitate the already confused crown prince enough to launch into his own arguments.

They shout well into the morning and when it's clear neither ones' pride allows them to back down, Ryoma leaves the way he came, with plenty staring after him in his disheveled state in the halls and Xander is left fuming in his own quarters with a disturbing peace settling over after his lover's leave. He finds the letter he was writing into the night, stained with ink, ruined beyond repair, and he finds it sad, even if he was never planning on sending it. He sweeps it all aside, knocking everything over on his desk and sits down heavily, hands folded near his head, staring into nothing, eyes unfocused and tired. 

He doesn't want to think about how they fought, the tense shoulders that bore the weight of something heavy on Ryoma, his angry guardedness that the crown prince thought they had both left behind in the far past, and the haunted look in the other's eyes. Whatever similarities the both of them shared, the pain Ryoma carried now was clearly nothing Xander could relate to at all, if ever. 

"We swore to be united," he pleads. "We wouldn't hold back."

"We don't have to tell each other everything." The other prince shoots back. "We are privy to our business. Are we not separate beings of our own? Must we share the same thoughts and opinions everywhere?"

"That's not what I meant and you know that, Ryoma." Finally some anger surfaces through the crown prince's words he has tried so hard to keep neutral. "That's not something I could ask of you. I thought you of all people knew that."

"You'll never have to know what this is like," the voice that speaks is bitter, full of more unspoken regrets and want. "While I do."

"Try me." Xander protests and the other tosses his head and laughs, has the audacity to laugh. 

"What could you understand about death, crown prince of Nohr?"

The proper use of his title and sudden question is almost enough to shock Xander into submission until he realizes that was the obvious point. Bile rises up to meet his throat as he tries to steadily reply, but without much luck, voice cracking slightly. "How could you of all people ask that, Ryoma?"

There's guilt that cuts through his dazed look and the high prince suddenly shifts away. They both know what they've seen. What they've done. For their country and siblings. Ryoma knows it was a cheap shot to fire and he did anyway, out of desperation or something else, Xander couldn't tell. "I apologize. That was out of line." There's nothing more, just silence, regret flooding in his minimal apology and Xander himself finally turns away.

"If you do not wish to talk, then I will beg pardon on prying into your business. It's clearly not my privilege to know." The words are barbs, deliberate and slightly cruel, edged with coldness. The last words, more so. "I thought I may as well try though, out of concern for my lover." Xander's front is back, put up quickly with almost little to no trouble that it should be worrying. They seem to have taken effect rather too well as Ryoma looks struck with grief and completely bewildered. He recovers quickly though and shakes himself out of his stunned state and only purses his lips.

"Nobody asked you to." It's just four words and somehow Xander is struck to the core, shaken and suddenly afraid. Ryoma leaves with those cursed words lingering behind, quietly closing the door behind him as he did so and it makes Xander angry. He wishes the other prince had left in anger instead. Anger had it's own uses, raw and powerful, but most of all, open honesty caught up in the moment. There was nothing angry about the way Ryoma left though. If anything, it was something akin to defeat. He had given up something, whatever it was, he knew it was coming or had already. 

It hurts to realize all of these things, especially the fact Ryoma seemed far more than just simply unwilling to tell Xander whatever was haunting him.


End file.
